


Kloktober, Oct. 16th: Dethstaff or Klokateers

by Morpheus626



Series: Lee's Kloktober 2020 [16]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: Klokateers/Dethstaff for this one, really. Since it doesn’t matter what you call them, if they’re in Dethklok’s employ, they risk death daily.Synopsis: It’s Annual Klokateer Remembrance Day, and Charles is Feeling It a.k.a. having emotions and it is A Lot for him. But then, it’s a lot for the Klokateers too.TW for death and mourning.
Series: Lee's Kloktober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948486
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Kloktober, Oct. 16th: Dethstaff or Klokateers

“This is always a hard day,” Charles said, and sighed deeply.

He meant it. He wasn’t an overtly emotional person, but he had to interview, hire, learn about and interact with every Klokateer. Whether he wanted to or not, he knew many of them incredibly well, which made it all the more difficult to bury them. 

This day, Annual Klokateer Remembrance Day, was the hardest day though, even beyond the individual funerals. 

“Thank you all for being here,” Charles continued. “We do offer this day off, for all who wish to commemorate it privately. But you all are here today, and that shows great strength and bravery. I appreciate your care for each other, that is evident here.” 

The crowd of unmasked, in street clothes Klokateers was something else to face. It was odd, to be able to see all their features, to make out one from the other more easily than when they were in uniform. 

A reminder that while they were dedicated to the literal death employees, they were still people. Still human. 

“We have candles available for all who would like them, and the period of non-denominational prayer and remembrance will begin in five minutes,” Charles said, watching as they filtered up front in a careful queue to take candles from the boxes near the stage. “After, the boys have prepared video speeches that will play. We know that it can be a bit...raw, seeing them in person on this day, so they have been sent on vacation for the next few days. After that, the open mic period will commence. As always, you may come up and eulogize any fallen coworkers, in whatever manner you like. If you have prepared music, please hand it to Dick, who is handling our mixing for the event.” 

Dick Knubbler, who had been keeping to the wings of the stage, leaned out and waved gently, wincing at Charles as he leaned back. 

He couldn’t blame him. There were a lot of tears and open sobbing this year, and it was all perfectly valid. It had been a rough year for their staff, somehow even more of a bloodbath than usual. And that took a toll. 

It choked him up, five minutes later, watching them all in their various forms of prayer, or deep thought. Heads bowed, shoulders shaking through quieted tears. 

They gave everything for this job. He would do the same. But how could he ever explain it to anyone outside of the Dethklok empire, should anyone have ever asked?

He didn’t think he could. You either were ready to die for the boys, for the job, or you weren’t. 

That had factored in when he had helped the boys tape their speeches as well. They’d been less tone-deaf than last year, but even so, his editing had been required. 

Nathan’s was first. 

“Hey guys,” Nathan looked uncomfortable. He had insisted upon sitting on his bed for the video, for reasons Charles hadn’t felt he wanted to know. “So...a lot of you died. And that sucks, and we’re really sorry about it. You do a lot for us. Uhhhh....like the time I was really drunk, and I threw up in my own hair. One of you washed my hair for me, and braided it after, and that was really cool. I got told that guy died in an accident with the jet...so, I wanna say I hope he’s doin’ good. Wherever dead people go. Braiding hair in heaven, ya know? Um...yeah.” 

Pickles was next. 

“So, people dyin’ sucks,” Pickles had, somehow, been sober for the video. It shocked Charles, but Pickles had insisted on staying put together for it. It was a nice but surprisingly mature thing for Pickles to do. “And I know that saying that doesn’t make it easier to deal with. You gotta...feel it, ya know? Feel the pain. Cry a bunch. Scream. Maybe kick something, or break a lamp. We got lots of extra lamps, if you need to do that, just ask Charles about it. But yeah...do all of that today, okay? For me. Maybe get drunk or stoned if ya gotta, but be safe. We don’t want any of ya dying during this thing, after all. Anyway. We love ya, and everything you do.” 

Murderface had been the hardest one to film, mostly because Murderface didn’t want to film it at all. “This isch kind of schtupid, if I’m honest. I mean, my parentsch are dead, and I don’t do anything like this about it. Whatever, Charlesch is doing the ‘shut the fuck up’ hand gesture. Look, we’re schorry a bunch of you die all the time. You do good work, and dying isch rough. But hey, other people in the world are gettin’ fired from jobsch and dying in the street. At least that ain’t you, right?” 

Skwisgaar had filmed his outside, with one of the yard wolves sleeping in his lap. Charles felt like the wolf helped, oddly enough. Like watching a puppy sleep, or something. Cute and soothing. “Yous guys ams the backbone of this place, but you does dies an awful lots. And that ams somethings regretables. But we don’ts wants you to dies, if that helps any. The jobs ams simply a dangerous one, but yous all knows that. Keeps up the good work, and wes will tries to gets less of you killed.” 

Toki’s was...a mess. But a well-meaning and sweet mess, at least. “We loves you guys,” Toki sobbed. “Ams so sorrys you always dyings so much. You don’ts deserves that. You makes me Hot Pockets all the times, and gets Pickle weed, and braids Nathan’s hair, and I thinks a few of you fucks Skwisgaar which ams nice-” He brushed tears from his eyes. “Since he ams arguably the ugliest of all of us. But enoughs about how yous hold backs your vomits over him. You little guys ams the best. I loves you.” 

Charles watched as Dick switched everything over to the open mic, and sighed. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to stay for the whole thing, or to slip out and leave them to it. He didn’t have to worry about them, he knew that. This was a holy day for everyone, and they always behaved well. Dick could handle the emcee duties, if needed. 

But that wouldn’t be right, to leave. The part that was perhaps hardest to admit, was that his own hand played in these deaths, in various ways, even if unintentional. 

He owed it to the lost Klokateers to stay, so he would. 


End file.
